When Father Dumong came up from Saskatoon to be our priest we, as well as everybody else were so happy. We had a real priest who would give us Masses. We’d forgive him everything, his confusing sermons, his rant about names, his strange posters, his absurd politically correct comments,rias long as he would be our priest . I even said he likes us. You can tell he likes us. Meaning Northerners even Caswells. Then reality hit. When our two sons who are priests came home for their annual visit they stopped at La Ronge and two hours later we got a phone call. They were late in arriving home because they had a long visit with Father Dumong and had to straighten him out because he was saying that we should leave. I parked this conversation and thought I d’d deal with Dumong after the boys left. I assumed that Fr. Dumong would contact us. I then realised the truth. Fr. Dumong hates us. He is working at kicking us out of the North. How could a priest come up to our home neighbourhood and in a few months start campaigning to kick us out? Do priests have a right to come into a parish and start kicking out people?people who had been here for 22 years, own a school, gardens, green house, chapel, home, the only one we have? Some more of Fr. Blum who would run constant insults and isolation tactics at us?.
I had been well. My my diabetes was under vcontrol. Soon I developed psoriasis on my face, scabies on my arms, itching all over my body. I couldn’t or didn’t get out of bed. I used Nix on the scabies. In sunlight the poison of Nix reacted and I had rivers of hives worse than the scabies. I kept repeating “ spare the flock, spare the flock and threw up over and over until the bed was soaked but I didn’t have the strength to change the sheets or do the laundry. John came home while I was in this mess and began to look after me with considerable skill and patience. For five days I kept mostly in bed, kept repeating that I can’t say anything against a priest. I asked my husband “ Are you Daniel?” Daniel is our son in Saskatoon . There is quite a lot of difference between him and my husband. . Then, I knew I had to get up and fight back or I would go into a coma and possibly die. My foot was already swollen with pus oosing from an ulcer on the sole. It had been there for over a year but kept at the same level. Through Lent I usually don’t write blogs . But I got on our radio and started telling some of the story. I fought back. We quit going to Mass because Fr. Dumong had made it clear that we should leave the North. He kept smirking and making pointed remarks that “ we’re both struggling.” I am not quite sure why being homeless in Saskatoon or Prince Albert would be good for our health. Hadn’t they tried this on in 2008? At any rate I discovered that not all priests are opposed to euthanasia especially if it comes to us. Hospitals are dangerous to us ( and others) so we do everything possible to avoid them. I doubt very much if I would even be allowed admission
After a month without prescription drugs the psoriasis began to disappear. My foot drained of long term deep infection and the ulcer completely closed. I can walk through the ruts, ice and mud of Spring Thaw. A long term concussion mysteriously lifted and the pressure was gone after at least thirty years. Gay
In the time of Fr. Blom the Confessional had been switched so that the penitent has to sit on the late Fr. LeMay’s chair and the priest sits where the lay person used to kneel . Fr. Blum would kick the door open with his foot to let people know that he is ready for the next one. No one can kneel unless he is prepared to have his feet out of the Confessional and the door ajar. The prayer of contrition so conveniently on the wall was no longer available. Fr. Dumong left things as they were. I went to Confession and he told me to stop I thought if I was prepared to have the door ajar so I could kneel it was my business. Then I went to Confession at the rectory near Christmas. I said that I wanted to say the Act of Contrition. He wouldn’t let me. I said that I wanted to anyway. I did. He said that when you go to Confession you already have made it clear that you are sorry so you don’t have to say it. When he came to our house to explain his good intentions and innocence John said in the Marriage Sacrament the couple don’t just stand up at the front of the church and expect that erveryone knows why they are here. You have to say “ I do” to get married so you have to say “ I am sorry “ to receive absolution. He was not impressed with this logic . He said that you have to make sure that people understand what they are saying. Later I read the Act of Contrition over the radio and said “ what possibly coul not be understood? “ I am sure that the elders know that prayer in Cree and/or English and others can read it. Everyone has to say I am sorry to God to be a Christian.
That week we heard on Catholic Radio what the Catholic Catechism says of Confession. The prayer of Contrition must be said as part of the Sacrament .
I was explaining that there are those who have used their son’s body to gain influence.. There are people who do witch craft . Father’s Dumong’s eyes glased over and a very bored look covered his face. He said “ How can I avoid local politics? “ I never said anything else . John carried on the discussion. “ Local politics” is a discussion as to whether we will have a winter carnival or not. Fr. Dumong asked for no explanation or offered no criticism. He had been in the North before and surely had encountered witchcraft, people who practise it, people who believe they are victims of it. It is not local politics and is certainly very pervasive. If a priest doesn’t believe witch craft exists a great many other people do. It deserves at least a serious discussion. The Bible could shed a great deal of light on this issue. As for people using their bodies or the bodies of their children, adult or otherwise to gain influence , to get a bottle or drugs, or get out of trouble , this is not local politics. It is a sin. I don’t think Fr. Dumong actually believes sin exists. But I never asked him. Gay